A Handful of Dust
by Majnoona
Summary: Mal turns down a perfectly good job and won't say why. Maybe there's some history that he don't feel like sharing-- or revisiting.


"I will show you something different from either  
  
Your shadow in the morning striding behind you  
  
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;  
  
I will show you fear in a handful of dust" -- TS Eliot  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"We're not taking the job."  
  
"What?" Jayne spun around from sticking his finger in that night's supper.  
  
"I said, we ain't taking the job." repeated Mal just a little bit slower, both hands flat on the table in front of him.  
  
"But Sir, we do need the work."   
  
"I know we do Zoe, but we're just gonna find it somewheres else is all. Now y'all have things to do. Supper ain't for an hour or so."  
  
Mal turned and walked out the mess door without looking around for any sign of agreement from the crew assembled around the mess lounge.  
  
"What just happened?" Asked Wash looking up, round-eyed, at his wife.  
  
"The Captain has decided we're not taking the job." said Zoe.  
  
"Yeah, I got that part. But has anyone here a clue as to just why we are passing up what sounds like a prime chance for some very much needed cash?"  
  
"Because the Captain's an idiot?" Offered Jayne, finger in mouth.  
  
"Well, he must have a good reason," said Kaylee, giving Jayne a shove aways from the stove. "It's not like the Cap'n to do something without a good reason. He just ain't always good at sharin' his reasons is all."  
  
"Yes, well our Captain is indeed a man of mystery." Said Wash nodding wisely. "It will just be that much more mysterious when they find our cold, dead bodies floating in a powerless ship deep in space."  
  
"What's going on?" asked Simon taking in the moody room from the doorway.  
  
"The Captain says we ain't taking the job," offered Kaylee.  
  
"No crime?"  
  
"No crime."  
  
"No crime is bad right?" Simon asked, taking an seat at the table.  
  
"No crime means no money," answered Wash, " no money means no fuel, no parts, no wonderful protein, no gifts of jewels and flowers for the wife."  
  
"And it wasn't even that much crime," said Kaylee wistfully, "just a pick up and drop off, way out in the boonies too. Hardly no Alliance to speak off. I just don't get it."  
  
"Zoe?" Wash turned to his wife.  
  
"I know, I'm on it. But the captain's orders are..."  
  
"Of course, honey. We all just want to make sure we're following the Captain's well thought-out, sane, reasonable orders, and not accidently doing something stupid or crazy."  
  
"Can't hurt to ask" offered Simon.  
  
"You're still kinda new around here, ain't cha?" said Jayne leering over him.   
  
--  
  
"Captain, if I may have a word."  
  
"Not now Shepard, I'm a might bit busy."  
  
"Just a moment of your time, I won't keep you."  
  
"Fine, what is it?"  
  
"Am I to understand we will not be accepting the job offered to us at our last port of call?"  
  
"Yes, that is just what you are to understand. Is this crew all deaf or just simple?"  
  
"Because, Captain, I've also heard that if we don't take this job, it seems we won't have enough fuel to make it to another potentially prosperous port of call, being way out here on the fringe as we are."  
  
"That might be what's being said, but I'm working on it."  
  
"Perhaps, Captain, it might ease the crew to know just why we are making this exception in an otherwise, if I might say, undiscriminating string of endeavors."  
  
"Why preacher, didn't think you'd be one to be talkin' a man into committing a crime."  
  
"Far from it Captain. As I hear tell, this is a perfectly legitimate business transaction between outpost worlds."  
  
"Outpost worlds that just happen to operate just outside Alliance patroles."  
  
"I wouldn't know."  
  
"Of course not, being a preacher and all."  
  
"Yes. Well, I have faith you'll do the right thing. ."  
  
"Good night Preacher."  
  
"Good night Captain."  
  
---  
  
"Mal."  
  
"Inara." Mal stopped half way across the catwalk.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Well I was tryin' to get some work done. But that don't seem to be what anyone else is considering this evening."  
  
"No. You know what I mean. Why are we not taking a perfectly good job when we need it?"  
  
"'We?' Since when do 'we' take jobs? I hope you aren't expecting me to take your jobs too."  
  
"I'm only interested in the continued operation of this ship. A ship I pay money to take me between worlds where I can entertain clients. There are very few possibilities for me to do my job if we are drifting in space."  
  
"Well, I would hate to come between you and your clients." She glared at him. "Uh, well you get my meaning. I'll find us another job. You do your 'work' and I'll do mine. Dong ma?"  
  
He turned and walked away leaving her rolling her eyes in the doorway.  
  
----  
  
"Now what!" Mal turned the pilot seat all the way around to face the small huddled form. "Girl, you know better than to be up here. Where's your brother?"  
  
River stared up at him glassy eyed. "It's where your heart is."  
  
"What? He's where?"  
  
"Not Simon. The job. The human heart can only survive 4.6 second after being removed from a living body." Mal headed to the intercom to page the Doctor.  
  
"Even less in shadows."   
  
He whipped back around to face her. "What did you say?"  
  
She looked up at him, the vague stare turning into something sharper, almost sly. "You don't want to go back, but you know you never left. It really shouldn't be a problem." She said matter of factly.  
  
He stared at her looking more like the crazy one than her. She jumped up and patted him gently on the shoulder as she walked away. "And you know, we really do need the money."  
  
--  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Whaaat!?"   
  
Zoe paused before approaching the pilot seat where the Captain sat, starring out into space.  
  
"It's about the job Sir. I told them that you'd made up your mind, but the crew wanted me to ask..."  
  
"We goin' take it."  
  
"Pardon me Sir?"  
  
"The job, tell them, tell all of 'em, we're gonna take it."  
  
"Of course Sir. I'll let you just get back to your starring."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
---  
  
~TBC~ 


End file.
